


get it, i guess.

by dustontheshelf



Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Legend (Linked Universe)-centric, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Magic, Major Character Injury, Other, all lowercase, legend gets big ouchied, magic talk is fun but i dunno anything about it, no death though cos i am nice, prince sidon is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:47:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29490801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustontheshelf/pseuds/dustontheshelf
Summary: legend gets cut through, entirely, and it hurts.
Relationships: Four & Hyrule & Legend & Sky & Time & Twilight & Warriors & Wild & Wind (Linked Universe), Hyrule & Legend (Linked Universe), Legend & Sky (Linked Universe), Legend & Twilight (Linked Universe), Legend & Warriors (Linked Universe)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 88





	get it, i guess.

**Author's Note:**

> magic frays and tries to restitch itself to continue the flow, but when your body itself is torn, what is there to do but let someone else help ease it back together?
> 
> (ninety percent angst warning)

there’s the faint registration of something heavy and just on the side of cold settling onto his stomach. the sensations of cold heat and something unnecessarily  _ wet  _ make his hands twitch and lungs collapse, letting air escape from his throat in a quick wheeze.

quick, just as sudden as itself, his eyes shoot open to the next overwhelming feeling, one that burns hot through his veins and burns under his skin. his nerves are full of sickening lava and his lungs suddenly empty for a new reason as all of the pain registers too fast, too sudden. it locks all his limbs and tenses his muscles against his will, seizing him so harshly that he shakes with it.

his hands try, unsuccessfully, to pull at the wet, blistering metal sheathed just above his navel.

a belated, high and hurt note releases from his mouth that saps the rest of the air in his lungs for the breath he’d taken seconds before. he misses as seven heads with panic or confusion etched into their expressions twist in his direction just beyond the tall mountain of metal in his face and the ugly, discoloured red thing reaching over him. 

one’s expression, of which was once determined and focused, turns into a quick slideshow of panic, worry, and then horror. they let out a loud scream on their friend’s behalf.

but legend, trapped against the rock and dirt by the axe in his body that pins him to the rocky earth of the area, has no chance to escape from the monster above him. a clawed foot comes stepping down, uncaring and harsh, and his ankle  _ screams _ , pain shooting up to his knee and up his sides to travel down his arms. he hears his own screams, momentarily, echo with the grotesque snap he hears.

there's the loud, telling sound of grinding metal on metal, the clash of armour and shields on weapons. he hears wet, disgusting breathing above him accompanied by garbled monster noises elsewhere. he hears, above it all, above the monsters and fighting, someone  _ screaming _ his name into the air, shrill and  _ terrified.  _ for him, maybe? his ears blot out sound, soon, something filling them as his head gets lighter.

he feels wetness seeping into his forgotten hands, into his clothes and making it all stick uncomfortably onto his skin. he feels the rough ground under him as his shaking body scrapes and irritates at the bloodied pool. the once cool metal is suddenly blistering, festered on by the swarming heat of the area around them and his own body and blood. 

his eyes, wide, barely seeing past the torrent of pain settled into his system, snap up to stare when red skin grabs the handle of the weapon buried into him. he realizes, suddenly, that the monster - a  _ daira,  _ he hears something quiet whisper in his head - isn’t looking at him. he realizes, suddenly, that it plans to steal back the axe it chucked into his body, and  _ now. _ at the thought, a wet, broken noise of a hurt and, for good reason,  _ terrified  _ whine chokes itself out of him.

the _daira_ ’s burning eyes slide back to him, to the handle, and it _lifts_ , tilting the axe forward, up into legends ribs with a sickening _squelch_ as it dislodges the bottom of the blade from his stomach. the motion pushes him across the ground, lifting his body until it falls from the _daira_ _shaking the axe_ to dislodge the bottom edge of it from the body it was stuck in. legend can do nothing but _wail_ and claw at the axe’s blade, and then the dirt around him, as it repeats it’s movements backwards now and legend’s body drags with the blade once more until the axe tears from his body completely. the monster teeters back with the weight of it’s weapon, now securely in its grasp again.

blood splashes, pools, and it doesn’t seem to care nor mind when some drops down from it’s axe onto it’s maw. legend swears it’s small, disgusting excuse of a chitter is a laugh, and it’s mouth curls to show it’s gums in the mock of a sneer. it drags its foot off of legend and steps back, turning.

his cries taper out as his throat burns raw from use in mere seconds. legend’s head, lighter than it should be, thumps back, heavier and harder than he thinks he meant to. his vision teeters even though he’s still and turns spotted, black and white playing across his view. his hands push and pry at the agonizing wound, as if they alone could staunch the blood that drops from the too wide, too deep tear in his skin and muscle.

heavy breaths, quick and too shallow, turn wet and agonized as something pools in the back of his throat.

before the monster can take another step, though, there’s a flash of waving blue, a glint of metal cutting low, through the ankles of red in front of him, sending it teetering backwards and another flash of glinted blue that streaks down through the air and into the skull without waiting for it’s back to hit the ground.

hands rip his own from his cut - his  _ tear _ \- and someone’s speaking, then there’s more voices. too many, link thinks, he’s  _ never  _ had this many  _ care. _ there’re hands all over him; clammy, hot, rough, gentle, afraid, cold. gold suddenly hovers over his face, blue eyes darting between both of link’s own eyes. something blue wrapped around their neck shifts as they talk and move, and legend’s eyes unfocus as he gazes at it.

a warm palm smacks his cheek until he reopens his eyes - he doesn’t remember  _ closing  _ them - and tells him to stay awake. he tries to snark back, to choke out some response, but legend’s throat, full of tangy, metallic liquid still, seizes and he suddenly struggles to breathe. blue eyes widen, eyes catching something wet sliding from the hero’s mouth with his eyes, and quickly, as gently as they could so as to not ruin him further, leans legend onto his side. someone’s voice warbles and falls off as legend hacks and chokes the wetness out of his airway.  _ so much red  _ stains the ground around him.

bodies and hands physically restrain him from curling around and digging his own hands into his cut - his  _ tear,  _ his mind repeats, because this isn’t some  _ papercut,  _ this time - and there’s several colourful strings of words that come from someone’s mouth as they realize that blood is pooling from his back - that the axe had gone clean through him. other’s voices join in as the one curses the sight.

legend blearily gazes at the face of himself - a mirror - no, of link. but  _ he’s _ link? - of blue, blonde, green - the scarf -  _ warriors,  _ he finally recognizes. he shakes when the captain leans to look legend in the eyes, gloved hand still settled on his cheek, cap’s thumb gently wiping under his eyes, over his cheeks. warrior’s looks at him with a fierce determination that's laced with so much worry that legend tries to laugh it off. it comes out strangled and broken;  _ disgusting _ , honestly, and legend doesn’t do it again when warriors looks at him like he’s dying. (isn’t he, though?)

he’s vaguely aware of mouths moving, of sentences being spilled, but his ears had been stuffed with cotton long ago, what feels like hours ago yet mere seconds ago. the hand smacks at his face, insistent, when he closes his eyes again dizzy.

the hero feels something warm fluttering around the tear, colouring a light feeling around his stomach and leg, and there's something else pushed into his mouth and forced down his throat. his skin crawls, the pain amplifying and then lessening the longer he lays there. hears something frantic, something about it not being enough, and there’s a wave of cool, soothing  _ something  _ dragged over his being.  _ (worry, company, heal,  _ **_life._ ** _ ) _

he’s out before pretty boy can tap him back into awareness.

.

hyrule’s hands shake and his brows furrow as he kneels next to his predecessor. he’s vaguely aware there are tired, worried tears in his eyes. his hands glow lightly through the impromptu campsite as the sun sets, shining stubbornly until someone drags him away and gives him a potion and some food.

legend’s magic hisses, snapping apart and recoiling from places where the torn and broken body under red soaked cloth wasn’t strong enough to hold and constitute yet. it recoils so far that, if hyrule wasn’t paying as much attention as he was, he would think it was leaving the still body to rejoin the earth for the natural flow.

the once as-good-as-its-gonna-get-right-now look on the hero of legend’s face turns pained and his even breath tightens out to a unsettling rasp. to his chagrin, hyrule has to wait hours before he can continue to do what he can, as prompted by the others. the battle had been tough, they didn’t want hyrule wearing himself so thin that he passed out.

nobody accuses anyone of not caring enough when they have to stop someone from fussing the entire night. nobody fights and minimal words are spoken around that campfire without legend to spur on a stream of jokes or teasing with warriors. it had been awhile since they’d been that caught off guard, without items to heal.

by morning, hyrule has healed legend’s leg and stitched back together just enough of the tear to close up the hole in his back. coaxing some of legend’s own natural magic -  _ light, distressed,  _ and  _ frayed _ \- into those areas, hyrule finally lets himself rest. legend has some more time, now.

shadows shift and magic curls up under a bloody warrior and  _ protects, warms, _ and _ resuscitates. _

.

he wakes up, pain coursing through him in a sudden spike as his leg and tear are jostled and lifted to be pressed against something. hands slide under his thighs and he can’t keep ahold of himself when he’s lifted quick, his head lolling forward in a moment of lightheadedness and landing against a warm, soft surface. the move sends a weak, pained whisper dripping from his tongue, and the someone he’s on soothes him with another dose of ‘you’re gunna be okay,’s. their voice vibrates deep through their back and lulls him quickly into another fit of unconsciousness.

.

twilight continues his whispers of reassurance every time legend so much as twitches - weather it be for legend, himself, or the others who are spread in a tight, protective circle around their wounded friend as they walk. his pelt bunched up on his shoulder provides padding for legend to rest his cheek against over an otherwise rough and uncomfortable layer of gear.

hyrule walks behind them, keeping an eye on legend’s state, and the others keep eyes out for enemies. warriors lightens the mood some with some light talking, some jokes on time’s expense that time cracks back at him for. it doesn’t feel the same, what with a comrade hurt as they are, but it gets some smiles from them, so it might have been worth it.

.

he’s coaxed awake at some point by the disgusting feeling of wetness again, and there’s a rush around him he can’t quite understand. the rush alerts him, though, and his hand deliriously grabs for the sword he usually keeps by his side when he rests. the unfamiliar sensation of his hand hitting dirt when he expects his item makes him tense. he curls his hand closed anyway, like that may summon his sword to his hand, to his empty side, but his nails only catch dirt and dust in them and his first closes around air.

a voice, attempting to sooth, doesn’t make it fully into his cottoned ears, and only furthers his panicked aggravation. the softness under him is a puddle of wet, and he looks down.

and oh, this is definitely some sort of thing - a panic attack -  _ something _ . his mind screams  _ monster  _ at him, and he’s frantic, trying to sit up before he gets trapped again - the axe was so  _ hot _ \- his blood  _ boiling, bubbling - _

red soaks his vision, seeping through what should be white wrapped around everything he can see and, possibly, more. he chokes on his tongue when he realizes he can’t feel his legs and is increasingly aware that there’s someone crying somewhere away from him. through legend’s panicked noises and the pain in his head, calloused hands coax him into dropping his head onto their thigh and scattered apologies filled with their overflowing tears drop through the cotton like lead.

minutes later, just as he’s beginning to calm, out of nowhere, there’s sudden yelling, and those once gentle hands are frantic, pulling him towards them, jostling him up into their lap. blankets are wrapped around him, a familiar pelt draped over his shoulders and secured by the straps by nimble fingers acting quickly. legend wheezes, pain lacing though him as he’s moved.

a sword is readied in the hand that’s not holding him despite the person holding him still sitting, both arms wrapped around legend in a protecticing, solid hug. with him in their lap, to protect and to  _ not be late _ , this time, they stay steady and determined. legend’s vision cuts in and out, twisting and turning.

his stomach twists, then, and then he’s curling into a warm chest to hide -  _ like a pathetic child,  _ something deprecative says, but he’s too quickly disoriented and unsure if this is just his problem or not to think about it much. he thinks he’s going to be sick, his body shaking as the world around him warps and disfigures into something new. his breath is stolen, his wound twists in irritation at the rough transfer. his magic twists in his chest and legend feels himself tremble when the world corrects itself, harsh and sudden.

pressure shoves against the back of his eyes and his temples and his head swims in the air, bobbing as his neck isn’t able to balance his head with how light he feels.

he’s held in tightened arms until he’s lifted from them, and those hands, too, tighten their hold on him. he makes a noise in the back of his throat at the movement, his head falling back onto a shoulder once more.

there’s a distant clash of metal on metal that he misses behind him and the person carrying him, too busy trying to not throw up in their arms as they run.

shifting worlds had gotten, somehow, worse.

.

his sheikah slate left with time so the party could find their way without him - everyone unwilling to test how torn bodies travel with and through the technology - wild’s feet carry them both  _ miles _ , only stopping for the occasional jog until his lungs stopped burning before rushing back forward again.  _ sidon,  _ wild stares ahead at the zora palace, legend’s body silent and unresponsive in his arms as he recalls his message,  _ please be ready. _

.

legend is awoken by another cool dose of  _ correct _ ,  _ blanket _ , and  _ mend _ . the magic he houses under his skin -  _ hot, torn, tired, unsettled _ \- is ebbed, cooled, and guided into a smoother, slower - less  _ frayed, broken, torn, frantic  _ \- flow by a determined hand. gently led along with healing and control, legend’s muscles finally ease their tense, broken positions and begin to stitch themselves back together.

it was only seconds that he was awake, nudged up from the dark for a moment by the magic being pushed into his system, but the relief that accompanies the magic when they realize they succeeded in prodding him awake settles into his bones. with it’s soft spoken permission and soothing caresses, he falls back under, his own magic finally swelling and relaxing under the watch of the foreign hands, letting itself be nudged and encompassed along as they both travel through legend’s veins.

after so long of fighting the body -  _ torn _ ,  _ weak  _ magic  _ trying to mend _ , basic instincts struggling to  _ survive  _ and  _ breathe _ \- the quiet magic under legend’s skin welcomes the help.

.

in the room next over, where other heroes finally have gathered to wait, there’s a collective sigh of relief and release of tension that echos across the room when they hear that their friend will recover. they don’t care - they lie, like liars - that it will be rough going, that there are going to be scars. in that one particular way, they don’t care. they care about legend. they care - just not about how hard it will be.

with legend back, they are going to be  _ whole, family, correct  _ again.

the magic in the other room twists and turns, and hyrule stares at the archway of the door before slipping away through it.

.

red, green, purple, blue, so much fucking _red - but._ but it’s not fresh blood, he realizes.

hyrule chokes off a worried question, staring in silence at those in the room instead.

tired zora healers sit to the side, enamored by this stranger’s determination to  _ stay, live,  _ and  _ protect  _ up until this point. this point in which he is finally  _ safe. _

in silence, they watch over the breathing -  _ living, repaired, resting  _ \- hero.

legend lays still, his magic swimming in elemental.

  
  


**_epilogue._ **

legend is up and going within the week, sort of. new pains echo under his skin, chronic and he knows they wont be leaving just like the rest of the aches in his limbs. it worries through his muscles like it belongs there, worming itself between layers of muscle to remind him of just what he had been impaled with, what he has to deal with all the time. he's tired, exhausted, and made to sit back during fights for as long as possible, when possible. still healing, he takes it in stride, and he's thankful for not needing to take a nightwatch and is, now, one of the first to sleep. (it doesn't last long, but he's still glad he gets to rest more. he's _tired.)_

his magic swims with something new and legend spends his days on bed rest (thank whatever god cared enough for that much, at least,) trying to discern what exactly it was that had been added to his own. something pulses under his skin, egged on by the earth under his feet.  _ new. _ a  _ friend _ , possibly, or something that just wanted  _ familiarity _ .

legend is no idiot, so he notices when the others fuss over him a bit more than normal. and, for awhile, he lets them! of course he does, sometimes it’s nice! like when four offers to sharpen his blade for him, or wild makes him one of his favourite meals. or when he wakes up to warrior’s scarf placed around him, when sky somehow knows he cant sleep and plays his harp. when wolfie ( _ twilight _ \- he definitely holds it against him for blackmail and teasing purposes) curls up against his back or lets him pet him. he lets them indulge themselves on creating a vague circle around him as they travel, lets them always team someone up with him so he isn't alone, especially where there’s a battle. (which isn’t much of a difference - he’d just gotten  _ separated _ , that time. they’re just more careful about letting anyone get more than a few strides out of reach.)

he doesn’t let them do it forever, though. at some point, something had to give, and legend was a stubborn son of a bitch when he felt like being one, so it wouldn’t be  _ him.  _ he knew this of himself, and when he wanted space, he knew he would be able to muster it up  _ somehow _ .

and so he did! it was easy to get the younger ones of their group to stop, much to his surprise. the second he told them to stop fussing so much, they did. something, he assumes, about them knowing what it was like to be underestimated and undermined after an injury or for their ages. about the feeling of being  _ too  _ fussed over, one that makes your skin crawl because you start to think they think you’re  _ incompetant. _

mind you they still did all their usual things - bugging him about his items and worrying over him when when it was about to rain or was damp in the area - but they stopped putting small makeshift bandaids on his cuts and scrapes so legend counted it as a win. it wasn’t like they didn’t do the same ‘it’s about to rain, are you okay?’ or ‘don’t you hurt when it rains?’ shit to the others in the group, so he doesn’t feel too babied about it.

time, sky, and twilight though. holy  _ fuck _ .

he was still working on sky’s insistence to help, but he isn’t sure completely if that was just sky being nice normally or not. he hadn’t really been the main attention getter in the first place, all things considered, he  _ knew _ he ignored some advances and lashed out at other advances (that was on purpose, thank you very much!) so maybe sky  _ was _ just this nice. 

.

upon further reflection (and questioning) it’s all a lie and sky is definitely worrying over him more than needed. apparently, a fact of which legend had forgotten (hes forgotten alot of the time in hyrule’s time for that shift - but can you blame him?), sky was the one who was supposed to with him when the _daira_ got the hit on him - the one that saw twilight having trouble and went to cover him and then was cut off by another _daira_.

obviously, he should have known, it was the ole’ case of the ‘it’s my fault’ing that legend totally gets - but unfortunately for sky, doesn’t really tolerate on his behalf.

he quickly sets sky straight about it, in his own way.

(the next time they team up, back in battle, he looks at sky, sky who is shying away from picking or being picked for teams, and chooses him immediately to watch his back, full of  _ trust _ , _ understanding,  _ and maybe, just a little bit, of  _ teasing. _ )

**Author's Note:**

> oops! first fic, lets goooo  
> i dont remember half of what i wrote already, bear with me  
> hope you enjoyed! i know i liked writing this


End file.
